For the first time in weeks, something other than misery bloomed inside Titus.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“What are we doing here?”
The service elevator shook, and Natasa waited—impatiently—for Titus to manually open the old wooden doors and tell her what was going on.
He didn’t answer her question. Just pried the first set of doors open, then separated the next. Metal hinges groaned. His musky scent slid across the space between them, igniting a burn low in her stomach. Muscles in his arms and shoulders flexed beneath the thin, black, long-sleeved T-shirt he wore, reminding her of what he looked like under that soft cotton. What he felt like pressed up against her.
Need seared her skin, shooting through her stomach and hips. She hated this. Hated being close to him, knowing one small brush of her hand could cause him excruciating pain. Hated that even after two weeks, he was all she could think about. She was supposed to be focusing on training her gifts, on helping the queen and the Argonauts locate the last element and the leader of the Misos Colony. But she was acting at best when she was with those who’d given her sanctuary. The only home she wanted was inches from her, and she couldn’t reach him.
“Come on,” Titus said, stepping off the lift. “Almost there.”
She didn’t know where there was. When Titus had caught up with her in the castle hallway, looking frazzled and gorgeous and had asked her to come with him tonight, saying that he had something important to discuss with her, she hadn’t known what to think. Or expect.
She stepped off the lift and stared down the dark corridor. They were in the basement of some kind of empty warehouse on the outskirts of Tiyrns.
Why did she have this ominous feeling something bad was going to happen tonight? A chill spread down her spine, and she shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“What?” She dragged her gaze from the steel door at the end of the hall and turned his way. Nerves gathered in her belly. “No, I’m fine. Titus, what’s going on? What did you bring me all the way out here to talk about? Why couldn’t we have talked back at the castle?”
He ran a hand over his wavy hair. It was tied at the nape of his neck again. She missed the way it had hung loose around his face when they’d been searching for her father, missed burying her face in those soft locks when he held her close.
“Don’t, ligos Vesuvius,” he said in a low voice. “Not yet. Thoughts like that are going to push me over the edge. And I’m barely holding on here as it is.”
She swallowed, and those nerves turned to a mix of pain and heartache she didn’t know how to stop. She kept forgetting that he could read her thoughts now. He was right. She had to find control. At least while they were together. When she was alone…then she could wallow in her misery.
She looked down at the concrete floor and clasped her hands in front of her to keep from reaching for him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry either.” His voice was stronger, louder, and she looked up into his clear hazel eyes. Her heart squeezed even tighter under that intense stare. This wasn’t going to work. She wasn’t going to be able to stay in this realm. She could barely handle sharing her suite with him at night even though she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him.
His eyes softened. He glanced toward the steel door. “I brought you here because there’s something I want to show you.” He looked back at her, and a nervous expression crossed his features. “I can’t do that at the castle. I… I think you’ll understand when you see for yourself.”
The ominous feeling she’d experienced the whole way here doubled. He pulled a key from his pocket and slid it into the lock. Something inside her said she didn’t want to know what was on the other side of that door.
“Titus—”
“This building’s abandoned. There used to be a club upstairs, but it shut down a few years ago.” He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Holding the door open, he waited for her to follow.
Her pulse picked up speed, and her breaths grew fast and shallow. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. But if he’d brought her here to tell her he was moving out of her suite or something worse, she didn’t want to know.
“Come on, ligos Vesuvius. It’ll be okay. I promise.”
Heart thundering, she stepped into the room. The door closed behind her, the click echoing through the vast, dark space.
His footsteps sounded across the floor, and then he flipped a switch on the wall. One lone light hanging from a long wire illuminated the room.
Natasa sucked in a breath. To her right, a rack held various items—different lengths and colors of rope, leather cuffs, shackles, gags, masks, blindfolds…hooks she didn’t know how to describe.
She swallowed hard as she glanced toward the “furniture” in the room. A padded bench, a wooden contraption that looked like an X, a swing of some kind hanging from chains suspended in the ceiling, and a bed. Only this wasn’t a normal bed. It was a four-poster covered in black silk sheets, and in each of the four posts were hooks to tie or strap something—or someone—to.
Sickness gathered in her stomach, and she took a giant step back, toward the door and freedom.
Titus crossed the distance between them in two steps and held up his hands. “Don’t freak out yet. Just…just listen.” Panic filled his voice. “I told you before that there were things I…like. I brought you here because I wanted you to see. And because…” He drew in a shaky breath. “This is me. There have been so many secrets between us, I…I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want to hide anything from you.”
His expression was a mix of uncertainty, hopefulness and fear. Wide-eyed, Natasa tore her gaze from his and looked back at the contraptions in the room. Her stomach rolled again.
“I’m not a sadist,” he said quickly. “I know that’s what you’re thinking. There are no whips or floggers or canes over there. Look.”
Her gaze strayed to the rack again, and she realized he was right. There were restraints. Nothing more.
She glanced back to the furniture, specifically the padded bench in the middle of the room, one end higher than the other. The conversation they’d had back at the colony replayed in her mind. He tied females to these things. It was the only way he could have sex.
She stared at the bench. Imagined being strapped down, unable to move. Completely at his mercy. Her cheeks warmed. And deep inside, a slow stirring heated her blood.
“Yes,” he whispered. Her gaze jerked back to his. “I would love to tie you to that bench, ligos Vesuvius. On your back, with your hands bound above your head so I can watch your eyes when I take you.”
Heat shot all through her body, condensed in her belly, and slid lower. She pressed her hands against her burning cheeks, realizing he’d read her mind again. “I hate how you do that.”
He smiled, a mesmerizing grin that made him so damn sexy, her blood grew even warmer. “You’ll learn to block me soon enough.”
“I will?”
He nodded. “The guardians all do, and they’re not half as powerful as you.”
That didn’t ease her anxiety at the moment. She looked back to the contraptions in the room. She knew he was as frustrated with the situation as she was. But he couldn’t touch her, even with his gloves. What did he think restraining her was going to solve?
The thought of him tying those other females down and using them for his pleasure brought a fresh wave of nausea to her stomach. And then realization hit.
He hadn’t brought her here to tie her up in the same way. He’d brought her here to show her what he needed. To tell her he was going back to that life.
No. No, no, no…
Pain ripped through her heart and soul, and she took another step back.
“I told you I don’t want anyone but you, Tasa.” His harsh voice drew her gaze his way. Determination glowed in his eyes. A determination that kept her rooted in place. “That hasn’t changed and won’t. Ever.”
Her heart raced
. Confusion clouded her mind. Confusion and heartbreak. So much it felt as if it were dragging her under.
He pulled his gaze from hers and crossed the floor. His gloved hands closed over a length of red rope. He unhooked it from the rack, then came back to her.
She stared at the rope in his hand. Didn’t know what he was doing. Didn’t know anything.
“You’re right,” he said softly. “I don’t want to bind you. I want you to restrain me. And then I want you to touch me. Wherever and however you want.”
Natasa’s gaze jerked up to his face. “What? No.”
“Yes.”
Thoughts swirled. Over the last few weeks, he’d tried almost everything—magic, spells, herbs, drugs—nothing had worked. But maybe, if he was proposing this…
A tiny sliver of hope cut through her doubt. “Has something changed?”
His lips thinned. His eyes searched hers. He was so silent, her pulse soared. Finally he said, “No. Nothing’s changed, but I want this.”
What? No. She stepped back until her spine hit the solid, cold door. She wasn’t doing it. She’d seen the pain she could cause him with just a casual brush, and that was when his skin was covered with leather. She wouldn’t purposely hurt him. Not even if that was the kind of thing he “liked.”
“Tasa…” He stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the room. “Look at me.”
She squeezed her eyes tight and shook her head. Then she felt his arms cage her in against the door even if he didn’t touch her.
“Please, baby. Just look at me.”
Fear and sickness rolled through her. But there was such panic in his voice, she slowly pried her eyes open and met his hazel gaze. Helplessness swirled in his gorgeous eyes. “I need you. I’m dying here. Every second I can’t touch you is pure torture.”
“It’s torture for me too. But I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know. You gave up everything for me. When I think about what you did on that island…”
His voice hitched, and his eyelids fell closed. Her heart squeezed even tighter when he opened them again, when she saw the tears flooding his beautiful eyes. “I want to give you this. All of me.”
“Titus…” Tears blurred her own vision. “What you’re asking me to do… I can’t intentionally hurt you.”
“Please? Please?” he said again, panic cutting through his voice. “I’ll tell you if it gets to be too much. I just…gods, I miss you. And I love you so much. Please just let me do this for you.”
She stared into his eyes. His warmth and sweet scent made her light-headed, made her weak. Her heart thumped a wild rhythm beneath her breast. “I love you too,” she whispered. “I…”
Indecision swept through her. Gods, she wanted—needed—him too. So much. But she was afraid. And she couldn’t handle being the source of any more pain for him.
“I’ll be okay,” he said, reading her mind. “Stay with me, and nothing bad will happen.”
“I would never leave you.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” He placed the rope in her hand. The threads were some kind of nylon or fabric, not rough like she’d expected.
Slowly, he stepped back. Her palms grew sweaty as she watched him drag his T-shirt over his head, as she watched him drop it on the floor, rip off his gloves and drop those too, then step toward the padded bench and bend to raise the lower side.
“No.” Was that her voice? It was thick. Raspy. It didn’t sound like her. She cleared her throat. “N-not there.”
He stopped. Muscles in his arms and back flexed. She swallowed hard and scanned the room again. She pointed toward the bed. “There.”
A slow smile spread across his face. A gorgeous, heated smile that did wicked things to her blood. He straightened and moved for the bed. “Whatever you want, ligos Vesuvius. This is all about you.”
No, this wasn’t about her, it was about him, and she couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this insanity.
She looked down at the rope in her hand. Couldn’t even imagine tying it around his wrists. If he pulled or twisted, it would bite into his flesh. That would hurt too.
She eyed the rack and noticed the leather cuffs.
The clicking of her shoes sounded like an ominous warning as she crossed the concrete floor. She hooked the rope back on the rack and reached for the cuffs.
“Ankles too,” he said from the bed.
Her hand paused against the restraints. Her eyes slid closed. She tried to stop her spinning stomach. Couldn’t.
“I don’t want to accidentally kick you,” he added.
Oh, gods…
She drew in a ragged breath and slowly let it out. She could do this. She could try. For him.
Resolve firmly in place, she opened her eyes, grasped both sets of cuffs, and moved back to the bed where he was sitting. He’d taken off his boots and socks. Dressed in low-cut denim and nothing else, he sat in the middle of the mattress, waiting for her.
Oh…he was gorgeous. Even his feet. Sculpted muscle and smooth, tanned skin. Her mouth watered as he pulled the tie from his hair and tossed it on the ground. Thick, dark waves fell around his handsome face. “Hook the restraints to my wrists and ankles, then attach them to the bolts in the frame.”
Her hands shook as she did what he said, careful to keep her fingers against the wide leather strap so she didn’t accidentally brush his skin. When she finished attaching the ankle cuffs to the bolts, he lay back on the mattress and held his arms out so she could restrain them as well.
Her gaze shot from the dark hair fanned out beneath him to his wrists. This was a bad idea. It was so wrong. And she hated that a tiny part of her was excited by it all.
“It’s okay, Tasa. Just breathe.”
Breathe. Right. Easier said than done.
She finished with the cuffs, then stepped back and looked at him. He was spread eagle, laid out on black silk sheets, looking like her own private offering. Looking like Prometheus must have looked to her mother.
A burst of rolling fear rushed through every inch of her body.
“Take off your shirt, baby, and come here.”
She hesitated.
“I want to feel your skin against mine when you touch me.”
Her heart beat so fast it felt like it might just fly right out of her chest. Shaking, she kicked off her shoes, then slowly reached for the hem of her shirt and dragged it over her head. It landed on the cold concrete floor next to his.
“Bra too.”
Her pulse skyrocketed. But she did as he asked, reached back, unhooked her bra, let it slide into her hands, and dropped it to the floor as well.
“Gods, you are so beautiful.”
The awe in his voice, the passion, overrode everything else. Hunger stole through her, a deep, intense craving to be close to only him. She moved to the foot of the bed and carefully pressed her hands against the mattress. Silk brushed her palms. The mattress dipped as she climbed over him.
She made sure her hands and knees weren’t close to his skin, sweeping her hair to one side so it didn’t hit him in the face. But seeing him bound like that below her…waiting… She licked her lips and fought back the burning arousal…she wanted him. Needed any part of him she could get.
“I—I want to kiss you,” she managed. “Is that okay? I won’t touch you anywhere else yet.”
“Yes,” he exhaled. “That’s more than okay. Just go slow.”
Carefully, she lowered her face to his, making sure to keep her weight on her hands and her knees wide. Her hair skimmed his shoulder. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t tell her to move back. And his warmth—how could she have ever thought he was cool?—enveloped every part of her.
She paused when she was a breath away. Looked deep into his eyes. And knew no one—in the history of the world—had ever felt the way she did right now. “I love you, Titus.”
“Show me.”
Her lips lowered to his. A whisper of a kiss. The softest caress of ski
n against skin. Beneath her, she sensed his whole body contract. But he didn’t pull away, so she did it again. Added a tiny bit of pressure. From the corner of her vision, she watched his hands curl into fists.
She pulled back. “That hurts, doesn’t it?”
His eyes were tightly closed. He breathed heavily through his nose. “A little, but I can handle it. I want you to do it again. And this time I want you to do it like you mean it.”
She couldn’t stop the smile playing with the corner of her mouth. Gods, she wanted that too. What he was giving her… It was the biggest sacrifice he could ever make for her.
Slowly, she leaned forward again. Her hair fell against his cheek. She lowered her mouth to his once more. Trailed the tip of her tongue against his bottom lip, then gently kissed the corner of his mouth. He groaned. Her adrenaline surged with fear and doubt. She was hurting him. She had to pull back.
“Titus—”
He lifted his head, captured his name from her lips before she could get more than an inch away, and slid his tongue into her mouth.
Heat spiraled through her body. And the connection she’d felt to him before—the passion and love he’d ignited in her—swirled like a firestorm, overwhelming everything, even her fear.
She moaned, sank into the kiss, tangled her tongue with his, and reveled in the taste of him all over again.
He kissed her back, his lips turning greedy against her own. She wanted more. Needed more. She nipped at his bottom lip and licked into his mouth again. Could go on kissing him like this forever.
“Gods, Tasa,” he groaned. “Touch me. Use your hands.”
Slowly, she transferred her weight to one hand and brushed the other over his bare shoulder.
He jerked at the first touch. She pulled back from his mouth and yanked her hand away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Skata, don’t stop now.”
His voice was strained. Every muscle in his body tight. And he was still breathing so fast and shallow. But there was a look in his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. One she couldn’t quite decipher. Yes, there was pain, but there was also something else.